Memor Excitare
by DeejayMil
Summary: A waking nightmare... The worst thing about reality is that you don't wake up. Is Leroy Jethro Gibbs losing his mind? Everything is exactly as it should be, but something's changed. Could be slightly AU, no ships
1. Chapter 1

I DONT OWN NCIS

Leroy Gibbs was not unused to waking up and finding he hadn't left his desk. Depending on the case, it was sometimes something that he grew to expect. But one morning, instead of just feeling stiff as he awoke to find himself still in the bullpen, he found that his gut was churning.

None of his team had arrived yet, in fact, the building was still empty. This was enough to set alarm bells ringing, if the sun was up, so was his agents. He leant back in his chair and calmly tried to spot anything that was amiss.

Everything seemed to be in order... DiNozzo's desk was as messy as Ziva's and Tim's were clean, the reports he'd been lying on implied he'd fallen asleep catching up on paperwork. He pushed the misgivings to the back of his mind, and focussed on making it look like he'd merely come to work early, rather than having never left.

Glancing at the clock, it was 0800.

The silence niggled at his brain. No hurtful remarks from Tony to Tim, no mangled English from Ziva. The computers hummed quietly, powered on even though no one was around. Gibbs paced, waiting for the elevator bell to announce his teams arrival.

He occupied himself with cataloguing the belongings on his teams desks. But he only made it as far as counting the pens on Ziva's desk, before the misgivings set in again. He stared long and hard at her desk, trying to work out what was wrong.

Try as he might, he couldn't work out what it was that was bothering him. There was something terribly wrong with what he was seeing, but he couldn't quite place it, and the beginning of what promised to be a brutal headache was pounding in his skull.

Focused completely on the desk, he never even heard the bell.

"Boss?" The female voice was familiar, and he smiled to himself. Finally some normality. Straightening, he prepared to let Ziva know just how late she was.

"Did I miss a memo, David?" he asked, without facing her. "Because I don't recall being told that today was National Turn Up Late to Work Day?"

A soft laugh, and the misgiving was back, and suddenly for the first time in years, Gibbs felt his gut churn into fear. "It's barely 0700, Boss. Did you sleep here again?"

He turned, confusion mudding his mind. He could have sworn... but no, the clock said clearly, 0647. He glared at it, damning it for having the nerve to lie to him.

Piercing blue eyes turned to his team member, and suddenly Gibbs felt the floor drop out from under him.

"Ka.. Kate?" Gibbs put his hand down to steady himself, eyes wide with shock.

"Of course." Her smile was confused, and a concerned look was creeping over her face. "Is everything OK?"

Gibbs shook himself, glancing back at Ziva's – no, Kate's desk. Of course it was. He had no idea why her appearance had startled him like that. Rubbing his forehead where the headache felt worst, he mentally slapped himself. Stop acting like an old man, Leroy, he scolded.

A weak smile. "Sure would be, Kate, if I had a team that would get their lazy arses out of bed in time to see the sun rise!" That was it, that was how he should have reacted.

Kate laughed, and dumped her stuff on her desk, eyes bright. For some reason, Gibbs' heart ached strangely to see her. He felt as though she had been missing a long time, even though surely it had only been a few hours...

"Thought you were someone else, was all," Gibbs said, muttering. It was ridiculous, who could he possibly have mistaken her for? Abby? "Where's McGee and DiNozzo?"

Kate shrugged. "DiNozzo? Probably not even out of bed yet." Then a frown, and Gibbs realised he'd done something else to alarm her. "McGee? The computer tech? We haven't got any cases, why do we need him?"

A quick glance over to the desk next to his confirmed Gibb's growing suspicion. It was empty, devoid of any of McGee's personal effects. Steady on Leroy, your losing it, he thought.

First imagining someone instead of Kate, then thinking the computer geek was part of the team... He stood and snapped briskly, "Going for coffee."

Why did everything suddenly seem so wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

**So it's been a good few months since I wrote ANYTHING... this chapter is terrible, absolutely terrible, simply something to get used to writing again. And a lot of it is AU, the fact that NCIS has been called to something they have no jurisdiction with, a few of the characters backstories... I'm hoping I can make it make sense, but if not, just chalk this story up to a failed attempt! A few more chapters before things stop being quite so crazy, I swear.**

**Xx_Sweetbabygirl_xX**

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The call had come at 0900 hours, a neighbour had heard a woman screaming and begging for help. Later, a call had come from the woman's young son, who'd found her battered body at the end of a flight of stairs. Gibbs was to meet the members of his team there, and he grumpily negotiated the early morning traffic to reach the scene.

As he pulled up outside the grounds of the flashy mansion, guarded by a squad car and pair of uniformed officers, the headache returned. It drilled with impossible force into his skull, and it felt as though his mind was full of cobwebs. He couldn't focus, and strongly wished he had a strong drink in front of him instead of a day at work.

The officers nodded at him as he drove past them, and along the gravelled driveway. The house at the end of the driveway was a massive, two story monstrosity. The wealth of whoever lived here made him feel sick, so much waste. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he glanced about for his team's cars.

Pulling in by Ducky's van, he found no trace of the elderly mortician. Trying his best to hide the exhaustion he felt dragging at his limbs, he strode inside, ducking under the crime scene tape. The hallway was lined with luxurious white carpet, polished walls, and antique paintings. He felt his temper rise, already on edge from the headache.

Calm down, Leroy, he scolded himself. He was here to investigate a crime, not to judge the victims on their use of money.

He'd intended to stride in, confident and professional. But as soon as he saw the crumpled body at the bottom of the sweeping staircase, he froze. Something was off, and he was instantly on alert. There was no one around, and that wasn't right. His team should be here, he should have seen someone other than the officers on guard at the gates...

"Ducky!" he shouted. "Kate, Tony?" No reply, and the silence stretched on. Every second became an hour, as he waited in vain for a reply that wasn't coming. He was alone with the murdered body of the young woman.

Almost against his will, he moved and crouched by the body. She was, had been, a pretty brunette. Not so young either. Her neck was broken by the force of her fall, and there was the shadows of bruises along her jaw.

Something about her green eyes felt so familiar to him... He was trapped in them, those eyes that somehow still held her personality, even in death. She was clearly dead, and yet, any moment, he knew those eyes would blink and crinkle into a smile. He couldn't look away until they did.

How long he sat by the corpse, entranced, he didn't know. But suddenly, he heard a noise above. Standing in one sweeping movement, he drew his gun and held it ready, carefully trying to place the location of the sound.

Against all procedure, alone he carefully crept up the staircase. Along a dim hallway, a thump came from the room at the end, the one with the door slightly ajar. He kept to the shadows, ears strained.

Outside the door, he hesitated slightly. Fuck it, he thought wryly. What else could go wrong?

He burst through the door, shouting. "NCIS!"

And blinked. Tony stood by the large windows, in what was clearly a small child's bedroom, gazing calmly out along the driveway. The room spun around him, and he staggered against the doorframe, gun slipping from his hands.

He was on the floor, gasping as everything steadied. "Tony..." he gasped.

"Sir?" The voice sounded so scared, so young... He sat up and where he had thought Tony had been, a child of no more than 12 stood shaking.

Gibbs shook himself, and slowly stood up, legs weak. "Hey there," he said gently. "Don't be scared, what's your name?"

The boy tremored. He was tall for his age, but his face was very young. He had brown hair that flopped into his eyes, which were far too big for his face. Gibbs realised that this child was very likely the son of the dead woman, and his heart went out to him.

"You know my name," whispered the boy, eyes darting from him to the door. "Where's mama?"

Gibbs frowned. He took a step towards the boy, careful not to make any sudden movements that would scare him. His efforts seemed to be in vain, the child backed away with every step he took, looking like a dog that had been beaten.

Maybe he was. Gibbs felt anger tear through him, boiling up until he could barely contain it. If he ever caught the bastard who had dared hurt this child... he could see a dark bruise on the kid's forehead, partly hidden by his overgrown fringe.

He realised his mistake as soon as he reached his hand out to brush aside the hair. The boy dropped, whimpering. Gibbs stood for a moment, with his arm stupidly raised. "Hey there, I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, lowering himself to the boys level, ignoring the waves of dizziness that threatened to strike again.

He could feel sweat dripping down his forehead and the feeling that a piece of the puzzle was about to click, awfully, into place. The child's eyes rose slowly to meet his, and he knew what he was going to see.

Those green eyes, wide with fear, pain and resignation. He felt as though his whole world had become centered around those eyes, and he was slowly falling into them, through the green, into the reflection of the boy's dead mother.

"I didn't mean to, Boss. Father says I'll never be a good boy," Tony whispered.

Kate was there, steadying him as he stared at Tony, who was suddenly older again. There was a gulf between them, and even though his teammate was only an armspan away, Gibbs knew if he reached for him, his fingers wouldn't make contact. Tony stared at him, eyes cold, daring him to try.

"Something is terribly wrong, Boss," whispered Kate. Gibbs said nothing, just slumped and tried to stop the world from tumbling down around him.


End file.
